deep thoughts on a sunday afternoon

Well, it was a helleva week. Daughter turned sixteen, and I was slapped with the harsh reality that I am not getting any younger. Worse, that my full-time job as 'Mom' is going to change drastically.

But back to the beginning. I originally started this ‘Sweet Sixteen’ extravaganza with a family dinner for 13 for Selby’s big day ON her big day. Because her big day was on a weekday it meant that anything super fun I wanted to do would have to wait for the weekend. So, the birthday extravaganza literally started in the middle of the week, and continued until the late morning of Sunday, today.

For the last 5 days we have been eating ridiculously good food, spending a ridiculous amount of money and enjoying each other, whoever that each other may be, immensely. Wednesday was the full fam, Friday was part of the fam, Saturday and Sunday was the friends and fam...it did not quit.

But now, Sunday evening, I am alone and tired and full of good food and a perhaps a titch too much wine and I am navel gazing. My daughter will be in university in a couple years. My role as the protector of this tiny human will be cut down to a microscopic level. Although I am absolutely sure she will always need me, it is in the way she will need me and the intensity that she will require a mothers protection that will turn into being only a fraction of what we, as mothers, have been providing during our children’s lives.

So, what to do? I am in a new relationship. One that I am sad to say has an equal amount of fighting as it does loving. So ultimately it is not a sure thing. And with the slow removal slash replacement of being the pivotal person in my daughters life, I have been relegated to a character in her screenplay as opposed to she being a character, albeit the most important one, in mine.

Again, what to do? Is this what is called a mid-life crisis? Or is this simply a rite of passage that most women face? I would suggest that if it were the latter, then most would face this difficult period of their lives with either their own mother, or a strong and absolute life partner. Right now I feel I have neither.

I have no way of turning this post around to neatly tie up with the initial thought or proposal. I simply must end it with an ‘I’ll figure it out’ and go from there.

It’s tough not being the most important person in your child’s life...and harder to let them go. But worse is to have spent your life so wrapped up in focusing on giving your child all the tools she or he will need to be a socially progressive person in this world, one may have forgotten her own identity.

One thing I can count on is that as long as I blog, I have a good dozen or so people that are backing me for sure. This will be a rough next few years ducklings...I thank you for coming along for the ride.

Cheers,
~tm

Things that freak me out and/or piss me off...

No idea whatsoever why I am doing this.

People with insanely dark brown eyes. So dark that the iris and the cornea are the same colour. I canna tell what they are thinking. It freaks my ass out.

Blue eye shadow, nail polish, or food. OTHER than 'blueberries'. Blue food is wrong. Ladies with blue nails are wrong. Blue eye shadow should be banned to the furthest reaches of the universe. Perhaps only worn by those really sexy green chicks that Kirk sleeps with.

Food brought into work from well meaning constituents. I can not eat food that comes from a kitchen I don't know from people I barely know THAT IS NOT a restaurant.

The little beetles that have invaded my foyer. They are congregating by the dozens on the stairway window of my house. I hate them. For what its worth they smell really horrid when I 'dust bust' them up.

Plastic travel tea mugs. Give me ceramic or glass. I hate plastic.

People whom I follow on Twitter, who are so famous and/or are too full of themselves to at least look at my tweets and follow me out of respect. I mean, if I am following them it is because their line of thinking must be close to my own, so they should at least follow me for a while. I am just as interesting as say Wil Wheaton or the Rude Pundit (thanks for that btw Julie). Well okay, perhaps in my own Russian head. But the pity follow would be nice for a while.

When some motherfucker IT guy sits down at my computer at work and proceeds to tell me how sick they are. Thanks for that asshole. Where's the Lysol? Prick.

Getting ditched by my girlfriends cause of their pansy-assed family issues so girls-nite out gets called off and I have to sit in from of my laptop drinking Merlot and blogging about my troubles...and...um...

People who, when they smile, eyes do not crinkle. They are dangerous and creepy. Oh yeah, and condescending.

Elton John.

When you are in Italy how all the men touch your ass. I am okay with Scotsmen touching my ass. They can touch my ass all they want. For a long time. Repeatedly. Italians do it like they are allowed. Nu-uh. This wide, white, velvet ass is for Scotsmen only.

Old chat sites that, when you pop in after no being there for a few years, are like an old hang-out. Tired, worn, and filled with freaks that don’t even want to really chat. They just throw out stupid shit to see their own type up on the screen. For chrissakes, be like the rest of us and grow up, and get a blog stupid.

The way my dog smells after having to go outside for a wee piddle when it's raining. There is just no good there to be had.

So, I guess that is what is on my list today. It will change tomorrow, I can guarantee it. But it's my blog I can whine if I want to. Wine. Hmmmm, where did that bottle go?

Have a great long weekend my lovelies.

~tina-marie